Night Prowler - Part 2
by deadeb03
Summary: Taking place a year after "Night Prowler - Part 1", Vegeta's night excursions have taken over his life. Luckily, there's someone to stop him.
Night Prowler – Part 2

Chapter 1

Vegeta wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stared at the bright red smear across his white glove. It looked as good as it tasted! Absently, he wondered why he hadn't done this before. It was certainly easier than scouring back alleys looking for homeless people or lowlife drug dealers. Although they met his needs, he grew tired of the work and of constantly looking over his shoulder to make sure he wouldn't be caught.

He ripped the other arm off the lifeless body at his feet and sunk his teeth into the fleshy bicep. His eyes slipped back in ecstasy at the flood of flavors on his tongue. He couldn't believe something this small could have so much taste!

As he licked a trickle of blood that ran down his arm, he used the toe of his boot to turn the body over. Blood stopped flowing from the open wounds, but it pooled enough to completely saturate his son's small head of lavender hair.

* * *

Vegeta bolted upright in bed, sweat rolling down his face. He raised one hand to wipe his forehead, but it was shaking so badly, he let it drop back onto his lap. Instead, he closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing until he was able to get his racing heart under control.

A stirring beside him caught his attention. He looked down at Bulma, curled up with her back to him. Her bare arm lay, creamy and white, on top of the covers. Vegeta leaned closer, careful not to disturb her sleep.

With his keen Saiyan senses, Vegeta could hear her heart pumping the blood throughout her entire body. He could feel the tiniest muscle movements as her chest gently rose and fell as she breathed. See each and every hair that covered her flawless skin, from her shoulder all the way down to the hand tucked under her chin.

Vegeta's tongue unconsciously flicked out over his lips. He knew exactly how every inch of Bulma's skin tasted. In the back of his mind, he wondered how the rest of her would taste. Surely, just as delicious.

Almost hypnotized by the way her upper arm followed the even movement of her breathing, Vegeta felt himself drawn closer and closer. His lips paused a bare inch from the delectable flesh as he swallowed the saliva that flooded his mouth. Once again, his tongue darted out to wet his lips as they slowly parted.

"Mmmm."

Bulma's mouth curved into a smile as she was brought out of sleep by the warm breath tickling her arm. Her soft moan startled Vegeta back to his senses.

"Morning," she sighed as she leaned back into him and gave him a soft kiss. Vegeta returned the kiss, but restrained from deepening it.

"I've got to go."

Bulma sat up and spun around to face him. "What? Again? Already? But it's morning!"

"I'll be back," Vegeta promised and left her sitting in the middle of the bed. Alone.

* * *

"Where's Dad?" Trunks asked, shoveling his cereal into his mouth with all the zest of a true Saiyan. "Did he already start training?"

"Don't talk with your mouth full," his mother scolded. "No. He isn't training. He had something else to do today."

Bulma sipped her coffee, staring out the window at the clear summer sky. Even though she managed to keep it from Trunks, she worried about Vegeta. He'd been doing this little disappearing act for nearly a year now. Sometimes he would be gone for a few hours, sometimes a whole night. It started out being a weekly event, but lately, it increased in frequency and he didn't seem as calm when he returned as he used to.

He told her he just needed to get out, get away, that he felt caged. She could understand that. Since he was very young, he'd never stayed in one place for long. Hell! He'd never been around people this long that he didn't end up blasting into charred bits!

But what was there for him now? Since Goku's death during the Cell Games, Vegeta no longer had a rival. No one to test his strength. No one to push him harder and further. A fighter without a fight. She could understand that feeling of uselessness. Felt it herself if she couldn't get to the lab for any length of time. She was just glad he found a way to deal with it. His symptoms were downright frightening at the beginning.

"So can I?"

Trunks' insistent voice brought her back from her thoughts.

"I'm sorry, honey. What were you saying?"

"Can I go play in the gravity room until Dad gets back?" The hopeful look on his face spoke volumes to Bulma. Even though he was barely five years old, he wanted so badly to spend time with his father. The small amounts of time he was able to train himself in his father's gravity room was all Bulma could offer him.

"Sure," she said with a smile. "But I'll be checking up on you, so I'd better not find out you overrode my gravity limit program again."

He gave her a sheepish grin. "But could you at least raise it to 50? It's no fun at 25 anymore."

Her immediate instinct was to tell him no, but her worry about Vegeta made her stop and think. If it was a Saiyan trait to want to keep challenging their limits, maybe she shouldn't stand in his way. To an extent, of course.

"30," she offered.

"45," he bargained.

"35."

"40."

"Sold!" she said. Trunks cheered and ran upstairs to change into his training clothes while Bulma reset her safety program in the gravity chamber.

If only she could get Vegeta to take an interest in how much Trunks' solitary training had advanced his strength. Maybe it was just a mother's eye, but she thought his arms alone should get his father's attention.

* * *

Vegeta landed in the middle of the forest next to the old tree he concealed his extra clothes in. He had no intention of going hunting during the daylight hours, but it was simply a matter of routine that brought him here.

He sat at the base of the tree and covered his face with his hands. They were still shaking slightly with barely controlled lust of flesh. The vision of his dream was still so fresh he could almost taste the tang of blood on his tongue. The sight of Bulma's luscious arm still burned onto the inside of his eyelids.

A growling noise startled him and he jerked his head up, scanning the area for the source. It wasn't until it sounded again that he realized it was his own stomach.

"Damn!" he cursed and got to his feet. He knew what he was hungry for, but resisted the urge to head to town. He would just have to make do until nightfall.

It didn't take long to find a herd of dinosaurs grazing a few miles away. One well placed blast took out one of the smaller ones while the others stampeded to safety. Vegeta quickly flew down and started to feast while the body was still warm.

He wasn't even finished with the first leg when a grimace spread over his face. He spit out the partially chewed meat in his mouth and let the piece in his hand drop to the ground. It landed in a puddle of blood, splashing red dots onto his white boots.

Vegeta knew this wouldn't work. It wasn't what he wanted. What he needed. His addiction wasn't anything as simple as blood lust. If that were the case, he could simply drink the blood of his prey, leaving them weak, yet alive. But he wasn't what the Earth legends called a vampire. It was more complicated than that.

As he walked back toward his hollow tree, Vegeta's stomach protested again. Balling one hand into a tight fist, he punched himself in the gut, replacing hunger with pain. At least for a little while. It would at least get him back home with some sanity left. Then he would lock himself away in the gravity chamber. Until nightfall.

* * *

 _A solitary figure floated high above the forest, careful to keep his energy levels suppressed. He made sure he stayed positioned so that if the man below happened to look up, he would be concealed in the blinding rays of the sun._

 _The man he'd been watching this past week looked particularly vulnerable today in the harshness of the bright daylight. There was nothing more he wanted to do than to soar down on top of him, descending on him like an owl on a mouse. But owls only hunted by night. And so he, too, would wait. Tonight would be the night._

* * *

Chapter 2

"What are you doing in here?!"

Trunks jumped, even in the increased gravity. True to his word, he hadn't touched his mother's programmed limits. What she didn't know was that he kept ankle and wrist weights hidden in the gravity chamber. The extra weight, combined with the increased gravity, had proven to be just the challenge Trunks was looking for. Sweat drenched his hair and ran down his face.

"Answer me!" Vegeta demanded from the gravity chamber doorway.

"I...I was just..." Trunks began, but stopped when he saw the odd look on his father's face.

"This is MY training room!" Vegeta continued, taking a step inside the chamber. "I have not given you permission to be in here!"

"Mom said I could," Trunks said. Even though Vegeta frightened him, he was willing to stand up to him to be able to keep training there.

An icy cold shiver ran down Trunks' back as Vegeta kept taking small steps forward, slowly closing the distance between them. He was used to his father's gruffness, but this was something different. Something in his eyes completely terrified the small boy. He stood, petrified, in the middle of the gravity chamber. The sweat of exertion was joined by the sweat of fear as he was transfixed by Vegeta's stare.

"Vegeta! You're back!" Bulma's voice over the intercom seemed to break the invisible force that held Trunks in place. Vegeta, too, shook his head before looking over his shoulder at the view screen.

"Why would you give this...child...permission to use MY training room?!" he boomed.

Trunks didn't pay attention to his mother's reply. Instead, he used the diversion to escape the chamber. The change in gravity caught him off guard as he charged through the door, making him run head first into a tree trunk on the far side of the yard. He picked himself up and ran blindly to the back door of the house as if ogres from hell were licking at his heels. His bedroom felt miles away and he wished he knew how to fly to get there faster.

Finally, slamming his door shut behind him and fumbling the bolt home, he threw himself onto his bed and cried safely into his pillow.

* * *

The yell echoed around the gravity chamber, followed by a full minute of ki blasts. Completely spent, Vegeta collapsed to his knees on the floor. His breath came in ragged heaves and he shook all over. If Bulma hadn't noticed him walking toward the chamber to see why it was operating, he didn't know what might have happened.

"Damn!" he cursed, falling forward to his hands. The combination of stress, frustration, and lack of proper food was forcing his body to betray him. If he didn't do something soon, he was going to lose control. He shuddered at the thought.

What would he do if he unconsciously killed his own family? As much as he tried to make them believe he didn't care, he hadn't convinced himself.

* * *

"What did you say to Trunks?!" Bulma demanded before Vegeta even closed the door behind him. "He's terrified to come out of his bedroom!"

"Well YOU shouldn't have let him in MY training room!" he countered.

"YOUR training room? I helped design it!"

Vegeta growled and left the room, not in the mood to argue. But Bulma wasn't ready to give up until she got a straight answer. She followed him all the way up to their bedroom, talking to his back.

"Trunks is Saiyan too, if you hadn't noticed! He's stronger than any boy his age, so it's too dangerous to let him play with them. The only other kids that could keep up with him are Gohan and Goten. But Gohan is always studying and Goten is only three. I've tried to talk him out of it, he wants to be a fighter like you. He wants to train. He wants to get stronger. But he has to do it all by himself."

Vegeta spun around to face his wife. His head already ached, and her constant prattling in his ear wasn't helping. "Get to the point, woman!"

"Train Trunks."

Vegeta's eyebrows drew together as his eyes narrowed in confusion. "What?"

"He's your son, Vegeta," Bulma sighed. "As much as I'd like to force him to study like Gohan, I know that isn't going to happen. He so desperately wants to be like you. Spend time with you. Train him, Vegeta. Let him show you what he's accomplished already. I think you'd be surprised."

Vegeta thought about what nearly happened in the gravity chamber. If he was forced to spend any amount of time locked in the same room with him, he was sure to snap!

"Forget it, woman! He's just a weak, little brat!"

He threw open the window to make his escape. At least the sun was nearly touching the horizon. He wouldn't have much longer to wait.

"Just keep him the hell away from me," he said over his shoulder as he took off, thankful she didn't know how to fly.

* * *

 _The mouse was already scurrying across the field. The owl was glad he decided to begin his stalking earlier than originally planned. Although the stars were just beginning to appear in the deepening dusk sky, he had a feeling he would be seeing some action before it got completely dark._

 _Since he'd been watching the mouse closely, he knew where he was headed. It was simply a matter of getting there before him to set the trap. Keeping to the cover of the trees, the owl flew into position, flexing his claws for the strike._

* * *

Chapter 3

Vegeta grinned as he crept towards the farmhouse. The old man would soon be finished with his chores and head to the house for supper. What he didn't realize what that he would be the main course!

The door swung quietly open and Vegeta let himself inside. In the darkness of the house, he would be able to attack. The old man didn't have any relatives or friends, so he would be able to eat in leisure without the fear of being caught.

"Sorry, but dinner's been canceled."

Vegeta spun around and searched the darkness for the unexpected voice. Even before the light flicked on, he recognized the voice.

"Piccolo! What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"Saving you from yourself," Piccolo answered.

"What do you know?" Vegeta snapped, his normally pompous voice cracked with the strain of barely controlled fury.

"Your eyes tell it all, Vegeta," the Namek said, walking close to tower over the Saiyan. "I've been watching you closely. You can't control yourself anymore, can you? Your desire for flesh has taken over and left you weak!"

Vegeta let out an insulted growl and swung a fist at Piccolo's face. The hand was easily caught. So was the next attempt. He tried to pull free from the taller man's grip, but lacked the strength to do so. If only he'd been able to eat first, it wouldn't have even been a challenge.

"Give it up," Piccolo said with a smile at Vegeta's feeble struggles. "I'm not here to fight you. That would almost be inhumane in your current state."

"You don't understand!" Vegeta cried out. "Have you ever tasted them?"

"I have." At Piccolo's quiet admission, Vegeta stopped trying to pull free.

"Then why are you trying to stop me?" he asked. Piccolo let go of his fists and took a few steps away so he could stand with his back to him.

"You attract too much attention, Vegeta. You've let it consume you and now you're getting sloppy. I'll admit I used to enjoy the hunt, too, but I never let my desires control me. I'm stronger than that."

"Are you implying that I'm not strong?" Vegeta asked.

"You can't get by without tasting the flesh of this weak race for even a few nights!" Piccolo pointed out. "Let's just say...you are what you eat!"

Vegeta gritted his teeth in annoyance. How dare this green, pointy-eared freak call the Prince of Saiyans weak! Without realizing it, angry pride had replaced his flesh withdrawal and he felt steadier and more focused than he'd been in a long time!

"So what if I choose not to stop?" Vegeta asked. "You said you didn't come here to fight, but you'll have to if you stand in my way." A surge of adrenaline coursed through his body at the mere thought of battle.

"No, I'm not going to fight you. But I am going to stop you. I had to talk long and hard until Dende allowed me to come here. We both know this is for the best."

Piccolo turned to face Vegeta, his eyes were wide and practically glowed red. He smiled and Vegeta took an involuntary step back at the sight of sharp, menacing teeth.

"I just wonder," Piccolo said, advancing on Vegeta, "what Saiyan flesh tastes like!"

* * *

Chapter 4

Trunks slipped out the door before the sun had completely risen. His panic from yesterday strengthened his resolve to learn to fly, and he was determined to spend the entire day trying, if he had to.

He shot a longing look toward the gravity chamber as he headed passed it toward the grove of trees beyond the back yard. He wondered if he would ever be allowed to step foot in it again. It was doubtful at this point. He certainly didn't want a repeat of his father's wrath!

Flying proved harder than Trunks realized. He could jump nearly to the treetops, but would always come crashing down. Again and again he jumped, even attempting to flap his arms like wings. It was almost noon when he finally hovered for a couple of seconds before falling back to the ground on the top of his head.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Trunks barely recognized the hoarse whisper behind him. He looked nervously over his shoulder, his mouth dropping at the dark shape at the base of a nearby tree.

"Dad! What happened to you?" he asked. His love and respect for his father overcame any fear as he ran over to inspect the battered Vegeta.

"Don't touch me," Vegeta snapped, wincing at Trunks' attempt to wipe the blood away from a gash in his forehead. "I'll be fine. I just need a little rest."

"OK," Trunks sighed and sat down to wait patiently for his father to feel better.

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "What were you trying to do? Break your neck?"

"I was trying to fly," Trunks admitted. "But I guess I can't jump high enough yet."

Vegeta tried to laugh, but it hurt too much and he ended up breaking out in a sweat from the pain. "That's foolishness! Jumping has nothing to do with flying!"

"It doesn't?"

"It's all in controlling your energy," Vegeta said, closing his eyes.

He was too exhausted from his encounter with Piccolo to deal with the annoying, incompetence of the brat. He wished he could skip this entire stage and have his strong teenage son from the future back. Then, at least, he would have some worthy competition. Piccolo managed to do one thing while attempting to devour Vegeta. He'd shown the Saiyan there was more to life than hunting. If he had a challenge, he'd be able to control his addiction much better. Vegeta had a sneaking suspicion Piccolo let him escape because he saw the realization dawn in his eyes.

"You'll never learn to fly. You're just a weak half-breed baby," he taunted, just to get the boy to leave him alone to heal on his own.

"I am not!" Trunks cried out, jumping to his feet in anger. "I am not a baby! And I will learn how to fly! And I will get stronger than you all by myself!"

Unable to handle his emotional increase of power, Trunks brought his hands together and let a ball of ki energy escape from his palms. It skimmed just over the top of Vegeta's hair on its way to blast through a row of trees. They fell like dominoes, crashing on top of one another with a great roar of creaking wood and tearing branches.

Vegeta's eyes popped open. He turned his head slowly from the destruction on one side of him to the small boy on the other. Trunks' teeth were still gritted in anger, his hands balled into tiny fists at his side. Vegeta allowed himself to look closer at the boy's arms. Instead of seeing a piece of flesh to be eaten as he feared, he was pleasantly surprised to discover untapped potential of power and strength in those small, muscular biceps.

"Did Gohan teach you to do that?" Vegeta asked.

Trunks shook his head, suddenly shy. "I've been watching you," he admitted.

"Enough fooling around," Vegeta said as he struggled to his feet. His spirits were boosted enough to compensate for his injured body. "Starting first thing tomorrow morning, you will show me everything you've taught yourself. After that, you will forget it and learn how to do it right."

Trunks beamed at the prospect of having his father as his teacher. He'd dreamed about it for so long, he could barely believe it was coming true!

As they walked back home, Vegeta knew his days of being controlled by his lust for flesh was over. He still planned on hunting from time to time, but with Trunks as his focus, his desire would no longer be an obsession.

"Just a sec, Dad," Trunks said and raced off into the thick brush beside the path. A minute later, he returned, holding a fat, dead rabbit in his hands.

"What are you doing with that?" Vegeta asked.

"I'm hungry," he replied with all the innocence of a child.

Meticulously, Trunks ripped the white fur from the meat. Vegeta's eyes locked on the skinned animal and his mouth watered, forcing him to swallow several times. He watched in longing as the boy sank his teeth into the rabbit's side.

"I just wish they were more like people. There wouldn't be all that hair to take off first," Trunks said, wiping the blood from his lips. "I think the skin would taste the best."


End file.
